


Morning Sigh

by Alex (shinychimera)



Category: Duran Duran
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-05-05
Updated: 2005-05-05
Packaged: 2017-10-08 07:41:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/74265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinychimera/pseuds/Alex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>The headboard is icy cold where I wrap my fingers around it, knowing I will need something to brace against soon. He's so heavy, lying full length along my body; I wish I knew why that not-quite-an-ache of compression in my ribcage excites me so. But now that I'm awake, and ready for him, he's teasing me, pressing close without going in for the kill.</em></p><p><em>Well, I know ways to get him going too.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Morning Sigh

**Author's Note:**

> "Charlie" = Simon Le Bon.
> 
> Frequent POV switching.
> 
> Originally [posted](http://community.livejournal.com/duran_stories/86136.html) at [duran_stories](http://community.livejournal.com/duran_stories/) LiveJournal community.

_Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh....._

Charlie's got his fingers up under my hair, capturing the back of my head. His tongue is heavy and wet in my mouth, and I have to keep pushing my chin against his stubbled jaw just to suck some air through a nose that's smothering under his urgent passion.

I'm half-awake, still half-tangled in bedsheets, his pillow pinning my arm to the bed where he leans on it. The light from the curtained window is foggy and dim and I'm guessing the sun isn't even up yet, but he certainly is. My other hand tries to find some purchase on his back; shoulder blades too wide, lower back too smooth, ass too hairy. He breaks the kiss to suck hard on the skin beneath my ear, and I wedge a finger between his cheeks, but he's not in the mood for that. He uses the grip in my hair to pull my head back, looks in my eyes, and bares his teeth at me -- it may be his attempt at a wicked smile but it's downright feral.

I feel weak all over under the power and heat of his desire, and he knows it. His grip leaves my hair and he pulls the free wrist up between us and across my torso, so I'm forced to roll onto my belly. The sheets unravel around us and I'm gasping as the chill air hits my sweaty body. Sweaty already, and he hasn't even started yet! He's still holding my wrist in a grip like iron and I can feel my pulse pounding in my groin as I writhe against the lumpy bedding, struggling to find a comfortable position even as he is drawing teeth across the nape of my neck.

* * *

I scrape my teeth across the back of John's neck, loving the buttered silk feel of his skin against mine where our bodies are pressed together, and the salty tang of his skin. The taste of him transfers to my tongue when I raise up slightly and lick at my lips.

I kick the sheets the rest of the way off the bed and straddle him, feeling him squirm beneath me. It seems he can't decide if he wants to buck up under me or get away. Of course, he's not going anywhere, and I stretch his arms further toward the headboard, pulling the muscles in his shoulders taut. At the same time, I dip my head down and draw his earlobe into my teeth. It's more of a threat than a bite, of course, but the movement pulls our bodies closer together. I shift, ever so slightly, so that my erection settles into the groove at the top of his ass. Not entering him. Not yet, anyway.

* * *

The headboard is icy cold where I wrap my fingers around it, knowing I will need something to brace against soon. He's so heavy, lying full length along my body; I wish I knew why that not-quite-an-ache of compression in my ribcage excites me so. But now that I'm awake, and ready for him, he's teasing me, pressing close without going in for the kill.

Well, I know ways to get him going too. I let my hips roll gently beneath him, rubbing his cock between my ass and his belly, and I turn my head to whisper against the pillow. "I want you to fuck me, Charlie. I want you to spread my legs and open me up, I want to feel every hard fucking inch of you inside me, I want to feel you riding me. I want you to fuck me hard, I want you to lose control and fuck me so hard, I want to feel you coming inside of me...."

* * *

I'm already heady with sensation, knowing that the moment is coming, and then he speaks, and it's filthy bliss. I want to silence him, cover his mouth savagely with mine, but his mouth is too far away, so I place my hands on either side of him and press up enough to get on my knees; just enough to shift my weight without giving up control. Just enough to apply the lubricant. I'm intentionally sloppy with it, knowing that the slick chill on his lower back will drive him further toward the edge, using his skin along with my hand to smear it all over me. His breathing is raw and rough, words forgotten, and I take a moistened finger and work it into him.

* * *

Holy fuck.

His touch is electrifying, I swear he reaches right to the center of me and turns me inside out. White light crackles against my closed eyelids, I can hear nothing but my own breathing. I need more than just a finger, and he's ready, he's pushing hard against muscle that doesn't want to give for him, but then does. He slides in, quick and steady even against the tight dragging resistance around him. I can only take tiny gasps of breath, one after the other, as my body stretches to take him in, and then the air all comes out in a whoosh as he reaches that spot and the lightning flashes across my eyelids again. There's a vertigo in pleasure, a floating tingle deep in the belly like a roller-coaster drop, and I know he's just begun taking me on this ride.

* * *

I take my time, pressing into him slowly until I hit that sweet spot, making him arch up against me and groan. God, he's so tight.

I ease back out at the same pace, pulling away until just the head is inside him, and pause there for just a moment. His head arches back, his ass rises, his eyes are glazed over with pleasure and half-lidded, and I catch his hips and push back into him, agonizing us both with the rhythm that isn't enough and yet is excruciatingly pleasurable in its restraint.

* * *

"Oh Jeez...Oh God," I whimper. Why can't I ever keep God out of my fucking?

I'm trying to pull myself up towards the headboard, then pushing back, desperate for more, but his body holds me down; it's infuriating, the way he can yank me up out of a sound sleep straight into passion and then draw it out like this. He's remorseless, slick and slow, in and out, chuckling deep down in his chest at me as I struggle beneath him. Maybe this is just the slow climb up the roller coaster track, but I swear I hate him sometimes.

"God damn it!" I say hoarsely.

* * *

The curse escaping him seems like a cue of some sort and I pause somewhere in the middle of a stroke. "Poor Johnny," I purr, then trace up one of his shoulderblades with my tongue. "Always so impatient..."

And just when he's convinced himself that I'm going to leave us lingering here, motionless, I drive back into him. The abruptness of it catches him off-guard, throws him off rhythm for a moment but then we're matching thrust for thrust. My fingers bite into the muscles of his upper arms to maintain my leverage.

* * *

He's squeezing my biceps like I'm going to try to escape him, but there's nothing I want more in the world than to lay here, captive beneath him, with the sweaty sounds of our bodies filling the empty morning air. That's it, everything's moving now, and I can breathe, and cry out, and I do.  My legs spasm as he fills me. I let my muscles do what they want to do, try to push him _out_, and he grunts and groans and keeps coming back for more, and each thrust carries me deeper into a white-hot world where there are no colors, no names, no words at all, only the hypersensitive points where his body touches mine. I can't stop, and I can't bear for him to stop, and I spread my legs wider and shove my hips higher to beg him for more and more

* * *

I'm going to leave bruises on his arms, I know I am and I just don't care; the only thing that matters now is getting as deeply inside him as I can...we're rattling the bed with every thrust as I ride him harder and harder, his knuckles white against the brass of the headboard, bracing himself to push back against me. Driving deeper and deeper, pounding hard against his ass, into the depths of him until I almost can't stand it anymore. I want to slacken off, to ride the edge for as long as we both can take it but he tightens on me, the muscle clenching and an animal groan escapes my throat as I fight for just that one more moment of control.

* * *

His groan goes deeper and deeper, down to that register he only hits during sex, and he's the only man I've ever known who fights _not_ to come. I don't care what he wants, I can't hold it back any more. I'm gritting my teeth and pressing my face down into the pillow, gasping fast and high as my knees pull in and my back lifts up under him. Rivers of fire course down my spine, rushing and swirling around and under his pounding cock, and my balls are rising to meet it and it's....just....just.... almost.... ohhhhhhhh... "Oh God, Charlie! Oh God, oh God, oh _God_....!"

The fire's pumping out of me, my whole body suspended in ecstasy, and his arms are around my waist now, sealing me to him as wave after wave of dizzy pleasure shudders through me. He's thrusting still, he loves to hold it back till I'm limp and helpless in the afterglow, and it's like sunset after a perfect day to lie here with no strength at all while he goes on and on, hard and driven still. The piercing agony of orgasm mellows into something broad and deep and gentle that tingles in every fiber of my body as I listen to him mounting the peak for himself. I couldn't open my eyes if I wanted to.

* * *

John's orgasm spills out of him, bringing me right up to the edge, and I press my forehead against his shoulder, changing grips again. His body goes limp beneath mine and it's that utter surrender that drives me harder and harder, moaning. His face on the rumpled pillow is like an angel's, he's so otherworldly and pure in the aftermath of gratification, and then I am there with him, up and over the brink and I cry out at the agonizing pleasure of it all, spilling out and into him. My hips are pumping right through to the end of it, and then I half-roll on my side, bringing him with me because uncoupling would be more than either of us could take at the moment.

My arms go around his chest, holding him to me. The air is still around us, only a few faraway birds chirping in the peaceful silence. I bury my face in his hair; relishing the scent of him, of us.

"Good morning," I say with a smile.


End file.
